EMERY JONES

Emery Jones, psychotherapist extraordinaire, has spent her career untangling the knots in people's heads—only to tie them into gorgeous, gnarled mafia and cartel plots that leave readers begging for mercy (or more rope). Raised in Brooklyn's concrete jungle, where survival meant sharp elbows and sharper wit, she traded city sirens for Arkansas serenity after college. Now, as a mother of two tiny tyrants and wife to her own real-life masculine dom (who's equal parts protector and plot-hole checker), Emery writes the kind of dark romance where power dynamics aren't just tropes—they're therapy sessions with teeth.

Her stories? Raw explorations of obsessive empires crumbling under forbidden desires—cartel kings with fractured souls, mafia vows that heal as brutally as they bind. It's no coincidence; Emery's been psychoanalyzing her characters since junior high, when her teacher confiscated a notebook of "naughty things young ladies shouldn't think about" and threatened expulsion (or worse, therapy). Spoiler: She dodged both, but bets her old principal has one of her steamiest cartel duets glowing on their Kindle right now—karma with a Kindle Unlimited subscription.

Life's no less dramatic off the page: Emery's always had a dog as her loyal feet warmer (current squad: a fluffy enforcer who guards her writing nook like it's a cartel safehouse). Between pilates poses that mimic escape scenes and bedtime stories that double as trope teases for the kids, she reminds us: The darkest loves are the ones that mirror our own beautifully broken edges. In Emery's world, redemption isn't clean—it's a slow, satisfying unraveling.